


everything stays

by kronotriga



Series: lay me down [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Asexuality Spectrum, Cunnilingus, F/M, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Grinding, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Time Skip, Pre-Olympics, Rule 63, Trans Male Character, Trans Sakusa Kiyoomi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 17:21:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kronotriga/pseuds/kronotriga
Summary: It’s been almost six years since she’s last heard him say her given name.Atsumu may not need memories, experience become muscle become memory instead, but memories of standing huddled together in a deserted hallway after their last high school match still flood through her all the same. Sakusa— Kiyoomi had tenderly cradled her face as gentle thumbs wiped away tears of frustration, over Inarizaki's loss to Itachiyama, over Kiyoomi's rejection after months of what she’d thought was mutual romantic build-up."I want to kiss you but I can't, yet," he'd whispered, knocking his sweaty forehead into hers. "The next time we meet I'll be different, but if you still want to I'll kiss you then as much as you want." With that promise Kiyoomi had reluctantly pulled away and Atsumu hadn't understood what he meant until he'd made news a few months later by joining his collegiate men's team.He may have missed her, as she did him, but that doesn’t mean he wants anything more than friendship now. Atsumu still reaches out slowly, his eyes following her movement, to lay a hand over Kiyoomi’s, fingers brushing his wrist bone where another pair of symmetrical moles stand out on his pale skin.“I missed you, too.”
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Series: lay me down [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2217147
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	everything stays

**Author's Note:**

> this flavor of sakuatsu was also inspired by [this drawing](https://twitter.com/popplioikawa/status/1345603430727860224) by phee, a kind of parallel to my [build me up](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2121096) series but a flipped version with fem atsumu and a different take on their background where atsumu and kiyoomi have history :^)
> 
> as featured in this series atsumu is a biromantic asexual cis woman and kiyoomi is a straight trans man. I am neither but do my best to respectfully depict them both as a nonbinary asexual lesbian
> 
> recommended [listening](https://youtu.be/Lr0UOKd1dd0)

Atsumu would recognize those distinctive black curls anywhere, even if the hairstyle is new and slicker than back in high school, especially since they sit atop an even taller Sakusa Kiyoomi than she's seen in person in years.

She notices him in her periphery in a corner of the event hall and smiles fondly at his apparent continued habit of trying to remove his large frame from close contact in crowds.

Sakusa is a welcome sight, an old acquaintance if not friend, and Atsumu would definitely like to connect again should he be willing. Their last meeting may have ended awkwardly but she’s _missed_ him and their childish banter and competition. And striking up a friendship in adulthood when they're both more settled in their own skin and on their respective national teams for Olympic training could be the start of new memories Atsumu doesn't want to forget, far from home and lonely for company.

"Omi-kun!" she calls out as she approaches, needing to tip her chin up even more than she remembers to meet his dark eyes. In a concession to the gala dress code Sakusa has foregone his mask, so she can see the obvious color spreading across his high cheekbones. Had she overstepped?

"Miya," he breathes, sounding relieved but unsurprised to see her. He's probably aware of both Olympic team rosters, after all, but she hadn't expected him to seem as happy to see her as she is to see him.

Atsumu smiles brightly, because Sakusa has always brought out her most fervent. "Long time no see."

He chuckles self-consciously with a grin in return.

"Maybe in person, but I've been keeping up with your pro career for years. Congratulations on making first string setter for the Olympic team, you earned it."

Atsumu has heard all kinds of praise for months now but receiving such an honest assessment from Sakusa still makes her as giddy as it did in high school, eager for even the smallest compliment of her sets at the youth training camps they'd attended together.

"I've been followin' your collegiate and pro career too. Impressive professional debut two seasons ago, by the way."

That soft pink wash across Sakusa's cheekbones makes a return and Atsumu feels her own heat in response as well. Maybe she wasn't as over her high school crush as she'd thought, faced now with the object of her admiration.

Sakusa's sweetly flustered countenance gives her the encouragement to be bold. "Say, Omi-kun, would you like to properly catch up over dessert some time? If you happen to know of any nice cafes around here and have time to spend with an old rival."

Sakusa considers Atsumu for long enough that she starts to wonder if she'd read him completely wrong until he smiles again, small but genuine.

"I'd like that," he admits shyly. "I have a favorite one a few blocks away, actually, if you're free tomorrow? I often visited it in high school after practice." 

"Or we could ditch the gala early if they're still open?"

Sakusa glances around as if he’s forgotten where they are and Atsumu can see his mounting discomfort in the way his shoulders hitch up slightly and his hands come together in front of him, a tell she’d picked up on from intense observation when facing off against each other in high school. He looks distinctly uncomfortable now with the reminder of their mandatory attendance at the gala put on by the National Volleyball Association to welcome the Olympic teams to Tokyo but then he squares his shoulders and surprises Atsumu by grasping her hand and leading her out of the hall.

In the hallway outside he drops her hand, turning to her apologetically, but Atsumu just wants his warmth back. She recalls precisely the last time he’d touched her.

“I’m sorry I grabbed you without permission, I just really wanted out of there. But I can guide you to the cafe, if you’re still interested?”

“Very, I really meant it about wanting to leave.” 

Sakusa’s lips curl up again in relief and he doesn’t flinch away from Atsumu playfully knocking into his shoulder with her own, motioning for him to lead the way. 

* * *

They don’t bother returning to their respective dorms at the training center to change so they head straight out to the cafe in their formal attire. Sakusa’s sleek grey suit and Atsumu’s sleeveless burgundy dress that shows off her arms and legs certainly draw the attention of the patrons as they enter the homey cafe but the chatter resumes around them as they’re led to a corner table, the middle-aged waitress smiling gently at Sakusa in familiarity. He bows his head in gratitude as she leaves them with two menus, the laminate soon shining from a quick wipe down with a disinfecting wipe.

Atsumu watches Sakusa’s methodical wiping thoughtfully, handing her own over when prompted. “Does touching people still make you uncomfortable?” She still doesn’t understand why he hadn’t seemed uncomfortable with touching her at the gala.

Sakusa looks up to meet her eyes and slowly blinks at her, measuring his words. “Most people would make me uncomfortable, yes, but you don’t. You never have.” He takes a deep breath and continues quietly in a soft rumble, “I… really missed you, Atsumu.”

 _Oh_. It’s been almost six years since she’s last heard him say her given name. 

Atsumu may not need memories, experience become muscle become memory instead, but memories of standing huddled together in a deserted hallway after their last high school match still flood through her all the same. Sakusa— Kiyoomi had tenderly cradled her face as gentle thumbs wiped away tears of frustration, over Inarizaki's loss to Itachiyama, over Kiyoomi's rejection after months of what she’d thought was mutual romantic build-up.

"I want to kiss you but I can't, yet," he'd whispered, knocking his sweaty forehead into hers. "The next time we meet I'll be different, but if you still want to I'll kiss you then as much as you want." With that promise Kiyoomi had reluctantly pulled away and Atsumu hadn't understood what he meant until he'd made news a few months later by joining his collegiate men's team.

He may have missed her, as she did him, but that doesn’t mean he wants anything more than friendship now. Atsumu still reaches out slowly, his eyes following her movement, to lay a hand over Kiyoomi’s, fingers brushing his wrist bone where another pair of symmetrical moles stand out on his pale skin. 

“I missed you, too.”

* * *

Since they’d both eaten dinner at the gala Atsumu suggests they split a parfait and Kiyoomi readily agrees, finally deciding on matcha azuki after a few minutes of arguing over the flavor. 

The parfait is so large they catch up over numerous conversation topics in between bites, including setter comparison.

“Of course Kageyama is amazing, he wouldn’t be the first string setter if he wasn’t,” Kiyoomi explains as Atsumu listens intently. “He’s technically even more proficient than my own team’s new setter, but—” he trails off to fix her with a smile that shows off his dimples and makes her heart lurch. “Neither of them have ever given me as perfectly customized sets as you did.”

“Well, if you’re up for additional personal practice together after official practice I’d be glad to spoil you again.” _Wow, Atsumu, that was pretty fucking desperate_. 

But Kiyoomi is already nodding, soothing her worry. “Of course, if you’re not too tired.”

Oh, he still knows exactly how to push her buttons as always. “Hey, you’re the one who’s going to be struggin’ to keep up with _me_.”

Kiyoomi’s competitive grin shows off laughter lines Atsumu hasn’t seen before and aches to touch. “We’ll see.”

They settle back into friendly banter back and forth over the remainder of the parfait and Atsumu doesn’t think when she reaches across the table to swipe a thumb over the corner of Kiyoomi’s mouth where he’d missed a bit of whipped cream, popping it into her mouth before meeting his shocked eyes in realization.

“I’m so sorry, Omi-kun!”

He pulls a handkerchief from his suit jacket to dab at the same spot, ears red as he looks away. “Thank you, it would’ve been embarrassing to leave without noticing.” Neither of them vocally acknowledge the fact that they both know Atsumu would have pointed out the smear even if she hadn’t wiped it off.

Kiyoomi lets Atsumu pay since she’d suggested dessert in the first place but insists on draping his suit jacket over her bare shoulders as they leave the cafe right as it’s closing for the night. Atsumu gratefully accepts as the Tokyo evening is quite chilly, tucking her nose into the collar for a second and breathing in the scent of Kiyoomi’s spicy sweet aftershave. The lining here is soft and warm, though not as warm as calloused spiker hands had once been on her cheeks years ago.

* * *

They fall into a new routine of their own, meeting up after official practice every day. At first Atsumu sets for Kiyoomi’s spikes but when she brings up wanting to work on her own serves he rises to the challenge with his impressive serve receives. Their additional practice and competition earns them fond shakes of the head from Motoya and old teammates who know them well but to Atsumu their synchronicity on court fills her with renewed hunger in her love for their shared sport.

It feels a lot like coming home, too, falling back into easy familiarity and friendship with Kiyoomi. For all that they haven’t been a part of each other’s lives for so long, and hadn’t objectively played much together either outside of a few brief weeks over three years of high school, Atsumu _knows_ Kiyoomi’s playstyle like the back of her hand. She hadn’t honestly expected to get to play with him again but she’d hoped anyway and poured over every match of his she could find over the years.

His flexible snapping wrists pack even more power and the thrill of seeing his pleased grin when he receives her monster serves set her alight with dizzying happiness. Kiyoomi is home away from home, the farthest and longest she’s been away from her sister, guiding her around Tokyo after practice and on days off. They visit his favorite cafes and restaurants every night and a couple months into their reconnection Atsumu eagerly agrees to visiting his family home to house-sit while his parents are gone for the weekend.

“Do your parents know you’re bringing a girl over?” she teases lightly as Kiyoomi lets her into the genkan. A sudden thump behind her makes Atsumu twist around to find he’s dropped his sports bag and he quickly snatches it back into his arms, the tips of his ears red. 

Maybe she shouldn’t have said that, if it makes him uncomfortable to potentially consider her that way. Atsumu herself hadn’t yet brought up being asexual, wondering if Kiyoomi had read the article from last year in which her lack of a dating life had come up in an interview after the Olympic selection.

“I was just kiddin’,” she mumbles as Kiyoomi shuffles past her to lead her into the living room.

He motions for her to drop her overnight bag by the couch then sits himself at one end to give her plenty of room before he looks back up to meet her eyes, blush still splashed across his cheeks.

“I told them I was inviting _you_ over, and they asked if I’d finally asked you out.”

 _What_.

“What?” Atsumu squeaks out. “Since when do you like me?”

Kiyoomi bursts into laughter at her dumbstruck expression but it’s clear he’s not laughing at her so she allows herself to drink in his rare effusive happiness even as confusion rattles around her skull.

“Atsumu,” he finally manages, turning towards her to cup her cheek and sending joyous pleasure sparking across her nerve endings. “I’ve had a crush on you since third year of high school, at least. I thought you might just want to be friends when we met again so I didn’t say anything but I was trying to court you by taking you on all those dates these past couple months.”

“Those were dates?” 

“Well, I suppose they weren’t if you didn’t realize it. Sorry, I should have been clearer.”

Atsumu thinks back on all of the comfortable and homey venues they’ve been to, all personally vetted and recommended by Kiyoomi, who went out of his way to spend even more time with her after extra practice and breakfast and lunch together as well. They’ve literally spent all of their free time together, inseparable over the past couple months when not training or asleep.

“You really still want me?” She can’t believe she thought she was pining one-sidedly all this time.

“I always have,” he answers honestly, bluntly, stroking across her cheek and making her lashes flutter as her eyes fill with tears.

“‘Tsumu, why are you—”

"Omi, I remember, y'know," she interrupts and he freezes. Atsumu still wants to kiss him, more than ever, and reaches up to squeeze the strong hand on her face.

"You promised me you'd kiss me as much as I want, and I still want you to."

Kiyoomi's eyes widen and Atsumu is worried she's pushed too much but then she's being enveloped in a tight hug, Kiyoomi leaning forward to wrap his upper body around her as if he'd lose her. She relaxes into it with a sniffle, pressing her face into Kiyoomi's warm neck where she can feel his pulse racing. She places a chaste kiss there because she can, and Kiyoomi shivers even as he holds her closer.

"I'm sorry it took so long. I wasn't sure you'd still want me and I was scared,” he says shakily. “When you didn't bring it up earlier I thought you maybe wanted to start over as just friends, and I was happy with that."

"But you still want me, too, don'tcha?"

"Of course I do—"

"Then please kiss me."

Kiyoomi releases a hand from her lower back to cup her cheek again and he complies.

Atsumu sighs into it, against Kiyoomi's smooth lips because unlike her he actually remembers to moisturize. But Kiyoomi really is hungry, tilting her chin for a better angle and all but devouring her.

Atsumu may be a little clumsy from inexperience but Kiyoomi guides her into kiss after kiss, nipping at her lips until she opens them to suck on her tongue. She's suddenly irrationally jealous of whoever he'd practiced with; just because he'd promised to kiss her doesn't necessarily mean she'd be the first, after all.

"Did past partners compliment you on your technique?" she asks when they break for air.

"What?" His eyes are endearingly confused while still dilated in arousal that _she_ caused.

"You're really good at kissing."

Kiyoomi laughs out loud again, bending slightly to muffle his mirth in her hair. "'Tsumu, that was my first kiss too.” 

“No way,” she breathes in surprise. He was _way_ too good.

Kiyoomi looks distinctly embarrassed when he admits, "I may have extensively practiced kissing on my inner arm over the years."

Atsumu giggles a little in relief in his hold, leaning more heavily against him and loving his arms wrapping more tightly around her.

"Were you thinking of me?" she quips, entirely unprepared for the completely black eyes that meet hers when he pulls back.

" _Yes_ ," Kiyoomi admits into her panting mouth and then proceeds to devour her again. 

He keeps trailing a hand over a thick thigh before jerking it away only to come back to groping it as they kiss so Atsumu lifts her leg to lay it across his lap, making him shiver and exhale against her lips. _So Kiyoomi is definitely a thigh man_.

Atsumu isn’t above begging, not when she’s waited over six years. "Please touch me."

So Kiyoomi does, hauling Atsumu’s bulk more fully into his lap as she gasps and clutches at his curls to hang on for dear life before sprawling herself more comfortably.

The angle they’re at puts Kiyoomi level with her neck, which he latches onto with lips and teeth and she tips her head further back to allow him more access. She whines when he pulls away after a sharp suck that will surely leave a hickey.

“‘Tsumu,” he pants, “we can just make out, we don’t have to have sex.”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Yes, but since you’re asexual I thought you wouldn’t want to.” Ah, so he had read the article after all.

Atsumu bends her neck down to rub her nose against his, wanting to stay as close as possible, even though she has to do some quick explaining.

“It’s true I don’t experience sexual attraction but I like _you_ , Kiyoomi, and I wanna be with you in every way. And maybe we'll have to talk through some things first but that goes for both of us, I'm gonna respect your boundaries too."

Kiyoomi holds her gaze to say, “Atsumu, you’re amazing and everything I could want in a partner. But dating me would make you hyper visible too, even in unpleasant ways.”

“Do _you_ wanna be with me, publicly?”

“Of course.”

“That’s exactly how I feel, too. It may not be easy but that’s a simple truth I can promise.” She smiles down at him. “And I trust you to give your all too.”

Kiyoomi draws one of her hands up to press the most tender kiss to her palm and she lets her fingers relax to stroke the bridge of his nose and elegant brows.

“Can I really be with you?” he whispers.

Atsumu gently pulls her hand from him to cradle his head in both hands and makes him shiver at the brush of setter fingers over his undercut. “You’re already mine,” she replies into his sweetly parted mouth, and tugs him back towards her to kiss and kiss and kiss.

He nuzzles into her neck when they part for breath and Atsumu can feel the longing in his trembling lips. She holds him to her and they just sit there for a minute, Atsumu processing the delicious warmth of skin on skin and the now familiar scent of Kiyoomi's deodorant and aftershave. 

"I've always wanted you," Kiyoomi confesses, lifting his lips to Atsumu's ear. "Even when you frustrated me with your amazing plays and infuriating grin one day in third year I realized I wanted to feel your lips against mine and I was gone."

Atsumu's breath hitches as Kiyoomi's hands curl around her hips and she grinds in his hold to make them both gasp with building arousal. "Did you know, I had my first wet dream about you," he continues, nosing at her throat from where a broken moan makes its way out at his confession.

"I dreamt that I fell to my knees before you after a match I wasn't even sure which team had won, and I ate you out against the wall until you cried with pleasure."

Atsumu chokes on a sob now, at the fervent way Kiyoomi relates his dream and desperate herself to make up for lost time. She tugs at his curls until he's peering up at her with dilated eyes, eager to give her anything she wants.

"I expect you to keep to your promise, then. Make me come until I cry."

Kiyoomi gapes at her in wonderment before his competitive smile crinkles his eyes with fondness. "Then I will."

Atsumu doesn’t expect him to basically lunge for her neck, nibbling until his lips reach the wide strap of her tank top before pulling it off her shoulder with his teeth. Then he flies into motion, Atsumu’s hips jerking in a grind as Kiyoomi pushes calloused fingers up over the soft skin of her belly and sides to pull the tank top up and she raises her arms to allow him to whip it off. 

He faceplants into her sports bra, licking a line up between her cleavage. Atsumu had taken a shower as always after practice but she’s sure she’s sweaty again now, though Kiyoomi seems far from caring as he smacks his lips and dives back between her boobs. _OK, so maybe he’s really into it._

Atsumu jolts at the feeling of wet heat as Kiyoomi ducks his head to pull a hard nipple into his mouth while brushing over the other with a firm thumb in circular motions. With a hand at her lower back to support her, Atsumu grinds down more heavily in Kiyoomi’s lap, trying to push her clit into his hard abdomen. She can’t quite get a good angle but Kiyoomi catches on, whipping off her bra as well and reclining into the back of the couch to let Atsumu push herself closer, breasts also smushing against Kiyoomi’s face. 

“I could die here,” she hears him laugh as she grinds jerkily against him, his hands pulling her closer by her ass.

“Not yet, you don’t!”

“No, not yet,” he agrees.

Strong arms scoop Atsumu up and before she knows it Kiyoomi has swapped their positions to set her back down on the couch as he sinks to the floor between her parted legs, apparently ready to follow through on his promise.

"Omi! Right here?"

Kiyoomi raises a brow at her but pauses in reaching for the drawstring of her sweatpants.

"We can go to my bedroom but I really want you right now."

"But your parents' couch—"

"I'll clean up any mess, and I don't intend to miss a single drop."

 _Oh!_ Atsumu's core throbs at this new promise and Kiyoomi pointedly smirks before rubbing his face into her belly.

"I want to taste you so badly, you have no idea."

Atsumu huffs a laugh as he nips at bare skin. "I may have _some_ idea."

Kiyoomi pulls the drawstring loose and hooks long fingers under the waistband to tug them off. He nudges Atsumu's hips up to slide the sweats under her over the couch cushion then spreads her legs over his shoulders.

Atsumu suddenly feels embarrassed of the obvious wet spot on her boring underwear but Kiyoomi only looks intensely interested, leaning forward to suck at the patch lightly and making Atsumu yelp at the sudden friction.

"I thought you were gonna take them off first!"

"Oh, I will," he chuckles against her. "Just want to build you up a bit more first." 

With that he licks a stripe up, sending Atsumu flying back against the couch, and sucks her clothed clit into his mouth with a wink up at her.

Atsumu's fingers curl into his hair again of their own volition as she groans, "What the _fuck_ , Omi."

He pulls off her to nuzzle into a thigh cheekily. "I like making you squirm."

She enjoys the slight rasp and burn of Kiyoomi’s stubble against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, throwing her head back to moan loudly when his nose bumps her clit as he sucks hard over her clothed entrance.

Kiyoomi holds her hips down to the couch as he leisurely continues licking and sucking at her, Atsumu forgetting that she’s topless until she catches him hungrily watching her chest bounce with each grind against his face.

She pulls a hand off her hip to press it into her breast, choking on an inhale when Kiyoomi squeezes. His other hand fumbles at her waist to pull down her briefs, then makes its way to hold her other breast as he buries his face between her legs again with a throaty moan of his own.

“Omi, _please!_ ”

Kiyoomi wastes no time in flicking his tongue immediately over her bare clit to make her cry out, then smears his mouth over her slick entrance as he laps up her arousal as promised. Atsumu strains against his hands on her chest, curling forward as much as she can in pleasure, and latches her hands onto his taut arms for stability.

She cries out again when Kiyoomi gently eases his tongue into her, feeling her walls try to clamp down on the wet muscle. The vibration from his resulting moan makes her whimper and then he’s fucking slowly into her, steady but unrelenting even as she bucks her hips. 

“Omi, y’ promised, make me come!” she slurs, upper body entirely supported by him by this point. 

He finally picks up his pace at her plea, thrusting harder while sucking as much of her flushed skin into his mouth as he can. What makes Atsumu finally break into tears is the tight seal of Kiyoomi’s lips over her clit and the rough brush of his tongue followed by the edges of sharp teeth.

Atsumu gushes over his face as she cries from the overflowing crest of emotional and physical stimulation. Kiyoomi licks her through the orgasm, sucking at her entrance to coax a little more come out and clean it up. Atsumu curls over his head, soft curls pressing against her middle as she trembles and scrabbles over his undercut, her legs still dangling over his shoulders. 

Kiyoomi finally pulls off, breathing harshly against Atsumu’s pubic hair, and she giggles at the ticklish sensation before flopping backwards. He rises gingerly to his feet after kneeling for so long and Atsumu holds out her arms to hold him as he slides into her lap, bracketing her hips with his own slimmer ones.

Kiyoomi is still entirely too dressed and she’ll have to remedy that later but for now Atsumu is content to tip her head back into his safe hands and feel him press a wet kiss to her mouth, both of them smiling into it. 

_Everything really does stay._

**Author's Note:**

> I am not sure yet how long this series will be but I am planning on continuing with at least one sequel! perhaps more depending on inspiration and my limited free time from full-time work :^)
> 
> there are very intentional (and probably some unintentional) parallels to my other depictions of sakuatsu bc I very much love writing them in love with each other, and this particular series could be read as an alternate universe to [build me up](https://archiveofourown.org/series/2121096), which is already an alternate universe from canon. in my writing in general I am mostly interested in exploring different aspects of canon through my own interpretation of the characters, especially in ways that do not center two cis men, so if that is also your cup of tea I hope you enjoy!
> 
> feel free to follow the writing process on my [side twit](https://twitter.com/kronopriv)


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